LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 


^  WILLIAM  LAND  IRENE  FINLEY 


GIFT  OF 
R.D 


EDUCATION  DEPX 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 


THE  BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BIRD 


Little  Bird  Blue 


BY 

WILLIAM  L.  AND  IRENE  FINLEY 

ff 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

R.     BRUCE     HORSFALL 

AND   FROM    PHOTOGRAPHS 
BY  THE  AUTHORS 


BOSTON     NEW  YORK     CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN   COMPANY 
Cambrit>0e 


COPYRIGHT,    1915,    BY   WILLIAM   L.    FINLEY 
ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Gift 

R  .D  .LINGUIST 

EDUCATION  DEFT, 


QTbe  XUbertffte  $re«« 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S   .   A 


To   GRANDMOTHER   B. 
COMPANION  OF  THE  CHILDREN 

AND 
FRIEND  OF  THE  BIRDS 


We  are  here!    We  are  here! 

Cheer!    Cheer!    Cheer! 
Here  again!    Home  again! 

Dear!    Dear!    Dear! 


LITTLE    BIRD   BLUE 


CHAPTER   I 

All  white  and  still  lie  stream  and  hill  — 
The  winter  dread  and  drear! 

When  from  the  skies  a  bluebird  flies, 
And  —  spring  is  here! 

DALLAS  LORE  SHARP,  Winter. 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

CHAPTER    I 

"THEv've  come,Mother!  They've 
come!  The  bluebirds  have  come!' 
And  Phoebe  Katherine  and  William 
stood  at  the  window  welcoming  the 
drenched  travelers  with  clapping  of 
hands. 

It  had  been  a  long,  long  time  for 
the  children  since  the  last  yellow  out- 
door days  of  autumn.  The  clouds 
had  hung  low  and  gray  for  weeks. 
The  sky  had  been  soaked  and  cheer- 
less. For  months  the  lawn  had  been 
swollen  like  a  well-filled  sponge.  The 
garden  lay  soggy  and  dead.  It  seemed 
as  if  winter  would  never  give  way  to 
the  warm  growing  days  of  spring. 


4         '  ;  '/LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

:'%*  The*  first  day  of  March  crept  in 
between  fitful  showers.  It  had  rained 
all  night;  it  had  rained  all  the  day 
before;  and  the  children  were  toast- 
ing their  toes  before  the  fire  when 


suddenly  they  caught  the  plaintive 
call-note  of  the  bluebird  in  the  drip 
and  dribble  of  the  rain. 

Outside  on  the  wire  two  bluebirds 
sang  the  message  from  the  Southland. 

"  We  are  here  !  We  are  here  ! 
Cheer!  Cheer!  Cheer!" 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  5 

They  flitted  among  the  bushes  and 
trees  from  the  sozzled  ground  to  the 
telephone  wires,  singing  softly  that 
eerie,  witching  call  that  fills  the  heart 
of  the  wintry  world  with  hope  — 
and  a  promise.  The  whole  city  lay 
wrapped  in  drifting  mist.  But  through 
the  gusts  that  flicked  the  rain  against 
the  window,  the  children  saw  sun- 
shine on  the  bluebirds'  wings;  they 
heard  spring  in  the  bluebirds'  song. 

"I'm  so  glad  Father  fixed  their 
house  in  time,"  said  William. 

It  is  always  an  event  in  our  family 
to  get  ready  for  the  home-coming 
of  the  birds  in  the  spring.  It  means 
to  sweep  and  dust  and  clean  and  tidy 
up  the  last  year's  cottages  and  to 
build  a  new  one,  if  there  is  a  spare 
corner.  There  are  no  more  nooks 
left  in  our  attic  for  bird-houses.  The 
families  must  be  kept  separate.  Peace 


6  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

prevails  between  the  bluebirds  and 
the  violet-green  swallows,  but  neither 
like  their  neighbors  of  English  de- 
scent. Last  spring  the  return  of  the 
bluebirds  and  swallows  was  anxiously 
waited  for  by  the  children. 

For  several  seasons  the  bluebirds 
have  occupied  the  flat  in  our  west 
gable.  The  violet-green  swallows  still 
cling  to  the  north  gable,  and  the  Eng- 


lish sparrows  —  well,  they  rent  nearly 
all  the  other  available  apartments  on 
the  first  and  second  floors.  A  land- 
lord is  not  always  at  liberty  to  draw 
a  fine  line  in  selecting  his  tenants 
when  he  owns  city  property. 

Up  under  the  sheltering  eaves  of 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  7 

the  west  gable,  overlooking  the  gar- 
den, was  a  round  doorway  that  en- 
tered into  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bluebird's 
home.  They  did  not  know  H> 

that  Father  had  cut  a  small         ^j* 
unseen  back   door  before 
they  came,  by  which  he 
and    Mother   and    the 
children     could     sit 
quietly  and  watch 

•I  .  -.    .    (- 

the   inner   lite 


"of  the  household. 
Soon  after  the 
return,  the  children 
watched  Mr.  Bluebird.  He  flew  up 
to  the  round  door,  clutched  the  step 
with  his  toes,  and  poked  his  head  in 
to  look.  Then  with  a  side  turn,  — 

"  We  are  here  !  We  are  here  ! 
Cheer!  Cheer!  Cheer!" 


8  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

His  mate  crowded  him  to  one 
side  and  popped  in.  She  was  out  in 
a  twinkle. 

"  Here  again  !   Home  again  ! 
Dear!   Dear!   Dear!" 

"  Father,  are  you  sure  this  is  our 
own  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bluebird  ?  "  asked 
Phoebe  Katherine. 

"Yes,  I  'm  very  sure,"  said  Father. 

The  sun  shone,  the  earth  steamed, 
the  grass  grew.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blue- 
bird were  very  busy.  Back  and  forth 
from  the  round  door  under  the  eaves 
they  went,  wing  to  wing,  with  straws 
in  their  bills.  It  took  many  days  to 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  9 

plan  and  furnish  the  home  anew,  to 
drape  it  with  grasses,  to  bend  and 
curve  the  straws  just  right,  and  to 
select  and  weave  a  soft  carpet  from 
the  finer  fibers.  And  they  must  hurry; 
there  was  so  little  time  and  so  much 
to  be  done  during  the  summer.  Last 
year  they  had  raised  eleven  chil- 
dren. 

Once  or  twice  a  skulking  shadow 
glided  out  close  to  them  when  they 
were  gleaning  grasses  on  the  ground 
-a  somber  phantom  that  was  to 
be  watched  and  avoided  as  certain 
death. 

Then  one  day  Phoebe  Katherine 
and  William  looked  through  the  back 
door  of  the  little  house  in  the  attic 
and  saw  five  blue  eggs.  Mother  Blue- 
bird was  at  home  a  great  deal.  Either 
she  or  Father  Bluebird  had  to  stay 
with  the  eggs  night  and  day  to  keep 


jo  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

them  warm.   Finally  the  promise  was 
fulfilled;    the  eggs  hatched  and  five 


naked  baby  birds  cuddled  in  the 
nest. 

All  was  right  with  the  world  — 
and  with  the  bluebirds. 

It  was  nearly  a  week  since  the 
five  babies  had  come  into  the  gentle 
bluebird  home.  Thechildren  tramped 
up  the  stairs  at  Father's  heels  to  visit 
the  tenants  of  the  attic  bird-houses. 
One  house  had  not  been  taken  yet. 
Another  had  a  family  of  four  young 
violet-green  swallows  snuggled  in 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  11 

feathers  with  which  Mother  Swallow 
always  lines  her  home.  Nothing  but 
broad,  yellow-rimmed  mouths  told 
where  one  bird  left  off  and  the  next 
began. 

They  tiptoed  over  to  the  bluebird 
house.  The  little  girl  and  boy  peered 
over  Father's  shoulder  through  a 
chink  in  the  back  door  of  the 
home. 

"Are    they   all  asleep,   Father?' 
asked  the  little  boy  who  had  got  a 
glimpse  inside. 

There  was  a  queer  expression  on 
Father's  face. 

"Yes,  they  are  asleep,  Son." 

All  five  naked  bodies  were  lying 
very  quiet  in  the  nest.  Father  took 
up  one  after  another — all  cold- 
clammy —  no,  the  legs  of  one  bird 
drew  up  as  they  touched  his  warm 
hand. 


12  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

"Why  doesn't  Mother  Bluebird 
come  with  some  food  for  her  babies 
and  get  them  warm?"  asked  the  six- 
year-old  girl. 

There  was  no  answer.  Mother 
Bluebird  did  n't  come. 

Oh,  Mother  Bluebird,  why  did  we 
not  guard  you  against  that  skulking 


shadow,  that  sharp-fanged  creature 
lying  in  wait  for  you  ?  Poor  mother 
of  five  attic  babies,  clothed  in  soft 
colors  of  earth  and  sky — refined  in 
dress,  gentle  in  disposition,  valiant  in 
spirit! 


CHAPTER    II 

The  bluebird  is  the  only  possible  interpreter  of 
those  first  dark  signs  of  March  ;  through  him  we 
have  faith  in  the  glint  of  the  pussy-willows,  in  the 
half-thawed  peep  of  the  hylas,  and  in  the  north- 
ward flying  of  the  geese. 

DALLAS  LORE  SHARP,  Wild  Life  Near  Home. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  bird  in  Father's  hand  became 
a  little  less  chilled.  He  was  so  scant- 
ily clothed — nearly  naked  —  a  few 
pin-feathers  on  the  wings  and  one 
row  down  each  side  of  the  breast. 

Tagged  anxiously  by  the  little  girl 
and  boy,  Father  brought  the  half- 
dead  nestling  downstairs.  He  put 
some  cotton  in  a  saucer  in  the  warm- 
ing-oven of  the  stove,  laid  the  limp 
bird  in  it,  put  a  little  food  in  its 
mouth,  then  covered  it  with  another 
bit  of  cotton.  How  helpless  one  feels 
with  a  naked  baby  bird  on  his  hands! 

Bird  Blue  was  only  a  few  days  old 
when  William  and  Phoebe  Katherine 
adopted  him.  His  nest  was  a  saucer 
upon  the  back  of  the  kitchen  stove, 


1 8  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

his  mother  a  piece  of  cotton.  One 
could  hardly  expect  a  baby  bluebird 
to  develop  properly  under  such  condi- 
tions; but  to  our  surprise  he  thrived. 
With  joy  and  eagerness  born  of 
youth,  the  children  took  over  the 


cares  of  Mother  Bluebird.  They  be- 
gan the  hunt.  They  caught  flies  in- 
doors and  out.  They  searched  for 
millers,  dug  cut-worms  among  the 
roses,  peas,  and  lettuce.  Bird  Blue's 
appetite  grew  apace.  He  understood 
immediately  when  the  piece  of  cot- 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  19 

ton  left  his  back  that  it  was  dinner 
time.  If  it  did  not  leave  often 
enough,  he  poked  his  head  up 
through  the  cotton  and  called  lustily 
for  lunch. 


"He  has  eaten  eight  flies,  three 
worms,  and  one  miller,  and  still  cries 
for  more!"  said  Phoebe  Katherine, 
somewhat  out  of  breath  and  with 
waning  patience. 

Then  the  children  began  to  dig 
angleworms.  They  were  more  abun- 


20  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

dant  and  more  filling.  Every  inch  of 
ground  in  the  corners  among  the  rose- 
bushes was  turned  over. 

"Mother, Bird  Blue  seems  to  think 
we  have  nothing  else  to  do  all  day 
but  attend  to  him,"  said  William. 

One  day  we  measured  Little  Bird 
Blue's  bill  of  fare  and  found  that  his 
dinners  were  heavier  in  actual  weight 
than  he  was.  He  ate  several  feet  of 
worms.  It  was  as  if  a  boy  weighing 
fifty  pounds  should  eat  sixty  pounds 
of  meat  at  his  three  meals.  He  turn- 
ed worms  into  feathers  so  rapidly  that 
he  grew  more  in  a  day  than  a  boy 
does  in  a  year.  The  first  bit  of  blue 
showed  in  his  tail  and  then  in  his 
wings.  The  marvel  of  it  was,  he  made 
such  rich  blue  tail  feathers  from  yel- 
low egg  and  green  cut-worms. 

A  baby  bird  has  no  discretion  as 
to  what  he  should  eat.  Little  Bird 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  21 

Blue  was  thoughtless  of  everything 
save  the  eating.  At  first  he  opened 
his  mouth  and  took  everything  that 


was  given  him.  Then  he  gradually 
learned  to  eat  some  things  and  reject 
others.  Egg  could  be  bolted,  but  he 
could  not  get  a  live  angleworm  down 
at  one  gulp.  It  had  an  irresistible 
tendency  to  wriggle  out  and  crawl 
away,  which  sometimes  happened. 
It  was  then  picked  up  by  the  chil- 
dren and  served  again. 


22  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

In  some  respects,  angleworms 
were  better  from  the  standpoints  of 
both  the  children  and  the  birds.  Af- 
ter swallowing  a  long  angleworm 
dinner,  Bird  Blue  felt  satisfied  and 

grew  drowsy, 
often  to  be 
awakened  and 
find  that  his 
dinner  was 
fa  crawling  out 
of  his  mouth. 
So  it  sometimes  happened  that  one 
worm  was  lengthened  into  two,  three, 
or  even  four  dinners.  After  swallow- 
ing a  live  worm,  Bird  Blue's  expres- 
sion showed  that  he  had  a  sickish, 
wiggling  feeling  in  his  stomach.  He 
soon  learned  that  a  worm  was  a  thing 
to  be  pounced  upon  and  killed.  He 
took  it  by  the  head  or  tail  and  slatted 
it  against  the  perch.  He  had  a  knack 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  23 

of  running  it  through  his  bill  as  a 
shirt  goes  through  a  wringer.  Then 
he  whacked  it  on  the  other  end  back 
and  forth  until  the  worm  stopped 
wiggling. 

We  gave  Little  Bird  Blue  the  free- 
dom of  the  back  porch.  It  was  large 
and  roomy,  but  he  did  not  like  to 
stay  alone.  The  minute  there  was  a 
crack  in  the  kitchen  door,  he  tried 
to  squeeze  in.  He  was  just  learning 


to  fly.  The  table  looked  tempting  to 
him,  so  he  hopped  back  where  he 
could  get  a  good  start.  But  the  sec- 
ond round  of  a  chair  was  as  high  as 
he  could  fly.  He  slipped  off  and 
went  back  to  try  it  again.  This  per- 


24  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

formance  he  continued  for  two  days, 
until  finally,  by  getting   back  near 


the  door,  with  a  good  start  he  could 
fly  to  the  top  of  the  table. 

He  was  not  a  nuisance  about  dip- 
ping into  things;  he  wanted  to  sit 
on  your  finger  or  shoulder  or  snug- 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  25 

gle  against  your  neck.  He  needed 
companionship. 

One  of  the  first  and  most  difficult 
lessons  Little  Bird  Blue  had  to  learn 
was  to  pick  up  food  for  himself.  As 
a  rule,  a  fledgling  is  very  slow  about 
hunting  his  own  dinner;  he  depends 
as  long  as  possible  on  his  parents. 
Bird  mothers  and  fathers  are  like 
human  parents;  it  is  sometimes  hard 
for  them  to  insist  on  a  child's  earn- 
ing his  own  living. 

As  soon  as  Bird  Blue  was  well 
feathered,  instead  of  giving  him  food 
every  time  he  opened  his  mouth,  we 
gave  him  a  bite  or  two  and  then  held 
the  morsel  temptingly  before  him. 
He  soon  learned  to  take  it  and  then 
to  pick  it  up  for  himself.  This  lesson 
required  three  days  —  a  long  time  in 
the  life  of  a  bluebird. 

One  day  a    neighbor  brought  in 


26 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 


a  young  English    sparrow  that  was 
sick  —  a  neglected  street  urchin.  We 


put  the  waif  on  the  back  porch  with 
Little  Bird  Blue.  He  scanned  the 
newcomer,  then  he  took  a  nearer 
view.  He  finally  stretched  out  long 
and  thin  as  one  might  rise  in  dignity. 

"I  fear  I  cannot  associate  with 
you,"  he  seemed  to  say  by  a  saucy 
turn  of  his  head. 

It  may  have  been  merely  his  an- 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  27 

cestral  air  of  aloofness.  An  incident 
the  next  day  proved  that  Little  Bird 
Blue  had  the  heart  of  a  certain  Sa- 
maritan. 

Both  birds  were  hungry.  When  we 
set  out  a  dish  of  egg  and  some  worms, 
Little  Bird  Blue  ate  his  dinner.  But 
the  baby  sparrow  did  n't  know  a 
thing  about  picking  up  his  ownmeals. 
He  sat  humped  down  with  his  chin 
on  his  chest  until  Bird  Blue  flew  near 


him.  Then  his  mouth  popped  open 
like  a  Jack-in-the-box  and  his  wings 
quivered.  In  another  moment  Bird 
Blue  had  seized  a  worm  from  the 


28  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

pan,  run  it  twice  through  his  bill, 
pounded  it  against  the  perch,  and 
thrust  it  hastily  into  the  open  mouth. 

"  See  what  a  good  father  Little  Bird 
Blue  is,"  exclaimed  William  a  little 
later. 

"  No,  I  believe  Little  Bird  Blue  is 
a  lady  bird  because  he  knows  how 
to  take  such  good  care  of  Baby  Spar- 
row," whispered  Phoebe  Katherine 
confidentially. 


CHAPTER   III 

Our  feelings  for  the  bluebird  are  much  mixed. 
His  feathers  are  not  the  attraction.  He  is  bright, 
but  on  the  whole  rather  plainly  dressed.  Nor  is  it 
altogether  his  voice  that  draws  us;  thesnowflakes 
could  hardly  melt  into  tones  more  mellow,  nor 
flecks  of  the  sky's  April  blue  run  into  notes  more 
limpid,  yet  the  bluebird  is  no  singer.  The  spell  is 
in  the  spirit  of  the  bird.  He  is  the  soul  of  this 
somber  season,  voicing  its  sadness  and  hope.  What 
other  bird  can  take  his  place  and  fill  his  mission 
in  the  heavy,  hopeful  days  of  March  ? 

DALLAS  LORE  SHARP,  Wild  Life  Near  Home. 


CHAPTER    III 

LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  had  never  been 
taught  to  go  into  a  dish  of  water,  but 
by  the  time  he  was  nearly  fledged  he 
began  washing  himself.  His  first  bath 
was  overdone.  He  did  not  know  ex- 
actly how  to  flirt  his  feathers  —  in- 
stead of  a  wash,  he  took  a  soak.  He 
was  so  drenched  that  when  he  started 
to  fly,  he  dropped  to  the  floor  with 
a  thud-  -the  feathers  stuck  to  his 
body  so  tight.  How  fatal  such  a  bath 
would  have  been  in  the  wild  out- 
doors. In  such  a  helpless  condition, 
he  would  have  been  at  the  mercy  of 
the  first  prowler  that  came  along.  Af- 
ter a  few  times,  without  any  teacher 
he  learned  to  dip  the  tips  of  his 
wings  in  and  rub  the  water  into  the 


34  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

feathers  of  his  back  and  sides  and 
bathe  thoroughly,  and  yet  not  leave 
himself  soaked  and  helpless. 

Each  morning  the  children  took 
him  out  on  the  back  lawn  to  bathe. 


One  day,  after  his  bath,  when  he 
cuddled  in  Phoebe  Katherine's  hands, 
she  discovered  something. 

"Little  Bird  Blue  has  n't  enough 
feathers  to  cover  him,"  she  said. 

"  No,"  answered  Father,  « in  look- 
ing at  a  bird,  one  might  think  his 
feathers  grew  all  over  his  body  as 
the  hair  grows  on  your  head,  but 
this  is  not  so.  The  feathers  grow 
in  lines.  You  see  by  parting  them 
on  Little  Bird  Blue's  breast,  it  is 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  35 

bare  ;  other  parts  of  his  body  are 
also  naked.  There  is  a  line  of  feath- 
ers down  each  side  of  his  breast. 
When  his  coat  is  wet,  it  does  not 
cover  him,  but  when  dry,  it  spreads 
out  and  he  is  completely  clothed." 

"I  wish  I  could  fly  like  Little 
Bird  Blue,"  said  Phoebe  Katherine, 
as  he  settled  on  her  finger  ;  "he  does 
it  so  easily." 

"You  must  see  how  this  little 
bluebird  has  been  clothed,"  said  Fa- 
ther, as  he  picked  up  a  fallen  feather. 


"Each  wing  and  tail  feather  is  made 
so  light,  and  yet  it  is  so  strong.  The 
little  quill  is  hollow  like  a  balloon, 
yet  bends  double  and  springs  back 
without  breaking.  On  each  side  of 
the  quill  is  a  row  of  tinier  feathers  or 


36  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

featherlets.  Each  featherlet  has  many- 
barbs  or  hooks.  These  featherlets 
cling  so  tightly  to  one  another  that 


neither  air  nor  water  can   force  its 
way  through  Little  Bird  Blue's  coat. 

"  He  has  two  kinds  of  feathers," 
continued  Father;  "some  are  loose 
and  fluffy  to  keep  his  little  body 
warm,  and  others  are  smooth  and 
stiff  for  flying.  This  is  the  way  he 
flies.  When  his  wing  is  spread  it  is 
like  a  little  saucer  turned  upside 
down.  When  he  drives  his  wing 
down  hard,  the  air  below  forces 
him  up.  The  front  of  his  wing  is 
strong  and  stiff,  but  the  ends  of  the 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  37 

feathers  are  soft  and  the  air  caught 
beneath,  escapes  behind,  just  as  the 
paddle  wheel  at  the  stern  of  a  boat 
catches  the  water  and  ^  ;>, 

drives  the  boat  forward.  So 
when  Little  Bird  Blue  beats 
his  wings  rapidly,  he  flies 
easily." 

When  Little  Bird  Blue 
was  a  month  old,  his  breast 
was  spotted  like  that  of  the 
young  wood  thrush  and 
robin.  All  three  birds  be- 
long to  the  same  family. 
But  the  bluebird  is  a  real 
American,  for  he  is  not 
found  in  any  other  coun- 
try. The  first  moult  or  change  of 
dress  from  babyhood  to  full  birdhood 
came  after  the  second  month.  The 
spotted  vest  was  changed  for  one 
of  reddish-brown  ;  the  gray  mottled 


38  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

coat  on  his  back   turned   to  one  of 
blue. 

How    carefully    Mother    Nature 
dresses    her   feathered   children!    In 


ROBIN,    THRUSH,    AND    BLUEBIRD 

most  cases  she  gives  them  their 
brightest  colors  in  springtime.  This 
is  their  season  of  love  and  home- 
making.  Toward  the  end  of  sum- 
mer, when  breast  feathers  are  worn 
thin,  tails  broken,  and  wings  frayed, 
she  loosens  the  old  dress  and  a  fresh 
suit  of  feathers  is  fitted  on.  This  is 
the  bird's  traveling  suit,  mother 
and  father  clothed  much  alike, 
both  dull  and  inconspicuous,  to 
escape  the  notice  of  many  sharp- 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  39 

eyed  enemies  on  the  long  journey 
South. 

One  day  we  were  asked  to  dine 
in  the  country.  The  children  could 
n't  leave  Little  Bird  Blue,  so  William 
bundled  him  into  a  basket.  As  we 
sat  in  the  car,  Bird  Blue  began  to 
cheep  to  get  out.  Amidst  the  rum- 
ble and  other  noises  of  the  car  and 
the  street,  no  one  paid  any  attention 
at  first.  Soon  the  continued  chirp 
attracted  the  lady  in  the  next 
seat.  She  looked  at  William  and 
then  at  the  basket.  He  answered 
by  lifting  the  lid  a  little  for  her  to 
see.  In  another  instant  Little  Bird 
Blue  slipped  out  and  sat  on  her 
shoulder. 

"I  want  to  ride  here,"  he  said 
with  a  twinkle  of  his  wings. 

William  took  him  in  his  hands 
and  the  passengers  smiled  at  the 


40  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

baby  bluebird  sitting  contentedly  on 
the  little  boy's  finger. 

One  might   think   that   bluebirds 
could  not  talk,  yet  Little  Bird  Blue 


had  a  well-defined  language.  His 
conversation  developed  somewhat 
along  the  following  lines.  When  he 
first  became  an  orphan,  he  had  a  very 
thin,  wavering  call  wrhich  was  a  real 
baby  chirp.  This  soon  changed  from 
a  whining  note  to  one  of  hunger. 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  41 

By  the  time  he  was  fifteen  days  old, 
this  chirp  became  as  continuous  as 
his  breathing.  It  was  quite  rhyth- 
mical, —  one  chirp  for  every  two 
breaths,  —  a  kind  of  a  location  call 
so  the  children  might  know  where 
he  was  when  they  came  with  food. 
As  he  grew  in  intelligence,  this 
hunger  call  was  lost,  perhaps  be- 
cause it  might  be  heard  by  a  prowl- 
ing cat.  Then  he  began  using  the 
typical  mellow  bluebird  call  —  a 
plaintive  whistle. 

Little  Bird  Blue  had  certain  low 
notes  of  conversation  that  could  be 
termed  talk  as  purely  as  any  human 
words  ever  uttered.  Toward  even- 
ing, when  he  cuddled  in  your  hand 
and  spread  his  feathers  to  let  his  little 
breast  rest  against  the  warm  flesh,  he 
turned  his  head  and  looked  into  your 
eye  and  asked  very  plainly:  — 


42  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

"Will  you  not  sleep  with  me  to- 
night? I  am  but  a  tiny  bird;  I  need 
you." 

Or  when  you  gave  him  a  rather 
unusual  morsel,  a  fat,  pure-white 


miller,  he  knocked  it  briskly  against 
your  finger  or  flew  to  a  harder 
perch,  where  it  was  deftly  killed ; 
then  back  to  your  finger  he  came 
to  draw  his  bill  across  your  sleeve 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  43 

and  wipe  his  face,  looking  up  with 
the  same  confiding  expression  in  his 
eye  and  saying:  - 

"Thank  you,  very  much.  You 
are  very  good  to  me." 

These  soft  conversational  bird- 
notes  of  love  and  confidence  and 


sympathy  were  readily  understood 
by  the  children.  The  love  for  this 
gentle  creature  of  the  outdoors  is 


44  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

what  the  children  got  from  Little 
Bird  Blue.  To  be  sure.  Little  Bird 
Blue  needed  the  children  ;  but  oh, 
how  much  the  children  needed  Lit- 
tle Bird  Blue! 


CHAPTER   IV 

When  Nature  made  the  bluebird  she  wished 
to  propitiate  both  the  sky  and  the  earth,  so  she 
gave  him  the  color  of  the  one  on  his  back  and 
the  hue  of  the  other  on  his  breast,  and  ordained 
that  his  appearance  in  spring  should  denote  that 
the  strife  and  war  between  these  two  elements 
was  at  an  end.  He  is  the  peace-harbinger  ;  in 
him  the  celestial  and  terrestrial  strike  hands  and 
are  fast  friends.  He  means  the  furrow  and  he 
means  the  warmth  ;  he  means  all  the  soft,  wooing 
influences  of  the  spring  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
retreating  footsteps  of  winter  on  the  other. 

JOHN  BURROUGHS,  Wake-Robin. 


CHAPTER   IV 

LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE'S  life  was  one 
of  simplicity,  content,  and  happiness. 
It  was  pitched  in  a  low  key.  He 
was  born  with  a  gentle  disposition, 
not  with  a  heart  to  stir  things  up. 
His  was  a  sunny,  joyous  life  close 
to  the  earth.  His  wants  were  few, 
-a  branch  on  the  back  porch, 
egg  and  worms,  especially  early  in 
the  morning,  plenty  of  air,  a  little 
water,  and  all  the  sunshine  he  could 
get. 

He  was  not  a  singer,  but  he  had 
a  personality,  rich,  full  of  promise 
and  purpose.  He  dropped  softly  to 
your  shoulder  with  noiseless  move- 
ment of  wings  and  looked  squarely 
into  your  eye.  He  settled  on  your 


So  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

finger  as   if  he   owned   it,  alert  and 
independent.    He  trusted  you. 

Think   of  the  lessons  Little  Bird 
Blue   had    to   crowd   into   the  brief 


space  of  two  or  three  months!  He 
had  to  grow  from  babyhood  to  bird- 
hood.  He  had  to  form  his  whole 
idea  of  the  world  directly  opposite 
to  the  teachings  of  his  ancestors. 
He  grew  from  egghood  to  a  fully 
fledged  bird  in  eighteen  days,  a  de- 
velopment that  takes  a  child  eight- 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  51 

een  years.  In  this  brief  period,  he 
had  to  learn  to  pick  up  leaves  that 
lay  on  the  ground,  turn  over  small 
clods,  look  under  limbs,  and  lift 
blades  of  grass  to  find  bugs  and 
worms.  He  learned  from  experience 
that  a  fly  was  to  be  pounced  upon 
and  eaten,  while  a  fiery-tailed  bee 
was  to  be  let  alone. 

He  learned  that  air  and  glass  are 
both  clear,  but  that  one  cannot  fly 
through  a  closed  window.  He  learned 
that  it  was  better  to  sleep  in  the 
patches  of  sunlight  than  shiver  in 
the  shade;  that  fire  is  comfortable 
at  a  distance,  but  very  dangerous 
when  too  near.  He  learned  that 
when  caught  out  in  a  storm  one 
has  to  select  the  sheltered  side  of 
a  tree,  and  when  going  to  bed  in 
the  rain  one  cannot  put  his  head 
under  his  wing  as  usual  because  the 


52  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

water  runs  down  through  his  feath- 
ers, but  his  clothes  have  to  be 
drawn  down  and  made  water-tight, 


. 


even  at  the  expense  of  a  cold  nose. 
If,  during  the  day  he  sits  too  near 
the  tree-top,  a  poised  hawk,  like  a 
sharpshooter,  may  pick  him  off;  if 
he  moves  or  talks  in  his  sleep,  some 
big  owl  may  gather  him  in.  How 
many  problems  to  unravel,  dangers  to 
avoid  —  how  many  things  to  remem- 
ber for  a  poor  motherless  bluebird  ! 
And,  oh,  how  many  snares  and  ene- 
mies await  our  dear  Little  Bird  Blue! 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  53 

Perhaps  it  would  have  been  far 
better  for  Little  Bird  Blue  to  be 
reared  in  the  tiny  cavern  of  some 
old  stump  in  the  corner  of  a  pas- 
ture. His  idea  of  mankind  would 
have  been  clearer.  How  could  he 
be  expected  to  know  the  difference 
between  one  boy  who  carries  a  gun 
and  another  who  scatters  crumbs? 


, 


If  the  thoughtless  boy  who  kills 
birds  could  but  feel  Little  Bird  Blue 
perch  on  his  finger  and  see  how  he 


54  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

turned  his  head  and  talked,  he  could 
never  kill  a  bluebird. 

The  leaves  began  to  grow  yel- 
low and  red  in  the  later  days  of 
summer;  the  sky  looked  bluer  and 
the  air  was  chillier.  A  feeling  of 
change  came  over  the  earth.  Little 
Bird  Blue  felt  this.  It  was  the  be- 
ginning of  the  great  moving  season 
of  his  parents.  His  restlessness  came 
not  of  discontent,  but  of  necessity. 

"Why  do  birds  move  away  in 
winter,  Father  ?  We  have  to  stay 
here,"  said  William. 

"Many  of  the  birds  live  on  in- 
sects. Moths,  flies,  and  worms  are 
plentiful  about  our  garden  and  orch- 
ard in  the  summer,  but  in  the  fall 
and  winter  they  hide  away  in  chinks 
and  crevices  and  sleep  through  the 
cold.  This  makes  food  so  scarce  for 
the  bluebirds  that  they  would  starve, 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  55 

so  they  have  to  fly  away  to  the 
Southland,  where  it  is  warm  in  win- 
ter and  where  food  is  abundant. 
But  Robin,  Meadowlark,  Vireo,  and 
Bluebird  do  not  forget  the  apple 
tree,  the  pasture,  the  dogwood  by 
the  house,  and  the  home  in  the  at- 
tic. So  when  winter  is  nearly  over, 
Bluebird  comes  again." 

In  the  brief  period  that  Phoebe 
Katherine  and  William  cared  for 
Little  Bird  Blue,  he  counteracted 
all  the  training  of  his  ancestors  who 
had  learned  not  to  trust  man.  He 
confided  in  his  human  friends  above 
all  others.  When  afraid,  he  fled  to 
the  children;  when  cold,  he  snug- 
gled in  the  round  nest  made  by 
their  hands.  If  cuddled  in  a  hand, 
he  dropped  to  sleep  instantly.  When 
his  eye  closed,  the  upper  lid  did  not 
drop  down  like  a  curtain,  but  the 


56  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

lower  lid  rose.  By  this  arrangement, 
Little  Bird  Blue's  eye  was  ever  on 
the  point  of  dropping  open,  which 


is  perhaps  one  of  Mother  Nature's 
ways  to  help  her  children  sleep  as 
wide  awake  as  possible. 

For  three  months  Little  Bird  Blue 
was  a  member  of  our  family.  The 
thing  that  satisfied  him  yesterday 
satisfied  him  to-day.  Yet  there  was 
one  hidden  power  that  seemed  to 
move  him,  but  about  which  he  did 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  57 

not  tell  us.  It  was  easy  for  him  to 
say  when  he  was  hungry,  when  he 
wanted  water  for  a  bath,  or  when 
he  wanted  to  cuddle  in  your  hand 
to  get  warm.  When  he  was  but  a 
baby  and  was  taken  out  into  the 
open,  he  sat  contentedly  on  a  shoul- 
der, turned  his  head  this  way  and 
that,  scanning  the  blue  sky  where 
other  birds  were  passing  back  and 
forth  and  playing  high  up.  It  was 
all  new  to  him;  he  didn't  under- 
stand it.  He  had  only  known  his 
blue  egg,  his  bird-house,  a  saucer 
with  a  cotton  mother,  and  human 
companions  whom  he  loved. 

Little  Bird  Blue  liked  the  back 
yard.  He  flew  from  the  porch  to 
the  cherry  tree  and  back  to  the 
currant  bush.  Then  one  morning 
something  happened.  He  was  rest- 
less; he  did  n't  eat  all  of  his  breakfast. 


58  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

He  flew  out  into  the  sunshine  and 
to  the  porch  again.  He  was  in  a 
bustle  —  a  hurry  as  one  who  is  ready 


[ 

to   go    on    a  journey,  impatient   to 
start,  yet  not  quite  decided. 

Two  strange  bluebirds  lit  on  the 
wire;  another  sat  on  the  top  of 
the  neighbor's  house.  They  called 
and  Little  Bird  Blue  answered.  One 
dropped  to  the  clothes-line  near  him,, 
where  he  began  preening  his  feath- 
ers, unconcerned,  silent,  yet  full  of 


LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE  59 

purpose,  as  one  bird  communes  with 
another.  Then  the  stranger  launched 
into  the  air,  crying, "  Come !  Come  ! " 


It  was  the  call  of  the  race.  It  was 
the  song  of  the  fall  flocking.  Little 
Bird  Blue  answered,  quivering,  ex- 
ultant, tense.  Then  he  flew  to  the 
arms  of  the  children. 

Two  days  later  he  left  us,  friend 
and  companion  of  Phoebe  Katherine 
and  William.  All  day  they  searched 
the  apple  trees,  the  bushes,  the  wires 
along  the  streets,  and  the  tops  of  the 
houses. 

"I'm  sure  he  will  not  leave  us," 
said  Phoebe  Katherine  in  tears. 

That  night  he  did  not  return  to 


60  LITTLE  BIRD  BLUE 

his  perch  nor  the  next  day.  And 
now  it  is  a  month.  How  the  hearts 
of  the  children  have  gone  out  for 
him! 

On  Little  Bird  Blue's  right  leg  is 
a  tiny  aluminum  band  with  the 
number  3480.  Think  it  not  strange, 
dear  child,  if  some  day  he  drops  to 
your  shoulder.  He  is  unafraid  of 
children.  He  may  be  hungry  for  a 
worm.  He  needs  your  protection. 
If  he  comes  to  live  in  your  attic, 
he  will  bring  you  happiness. 


O 


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